A Ship Leaving Every Hour
To some degree or another, we all avoid life. For brief, dramatic periods we may be 100% attuned to the present, but normally we exist somewhere between blacked out on the sofa and Zen-level attentiveness to each breath we take and the flapping of a butterfly’s wings outside the window.
In The War of Art,[1] Steven Pressfield gives avoidance a persona and a name. He calls it “The Resistance”. The Resistance is the thing keeping you from present reality and your destiny in life. The Resistance is avoidance, and he is none other than the devil himself, the enemy of your soul. A cunning enemy, he can veil himself in so many different forms. We avoid by bargaining with ourselves, or selling out. We procrastinate to the point of self-sabotage as a way of avoiding having to actually try hard. We embrace passing distractions, and delude ourselves to think they have some greater value. And if all that weren’t enough, we live in the past, think about “the good old days” when all was well, life was simple, and we didn’t have to face what we’re facing today.
Author Scott Erickson talks about a ‘spectrum of dying’, everything from video games and alcohol, all the way to suicide.[2] This spectrum highlights that there are degrees of avoidance and rarely will we make it cleanly through a whole day without some form of it. Technology intensifies the struggle, with the entire world in our pocket. Devices provide an endless feedback loop of images, people and places that are anywhere but here. Our existence is filled with noise and distraction, comforts, lesser dreams and tangential endeavors. There are numerous small and large ways we avoid the present, numb out, or turn away.
Jonah and the Whale (1621) by Pieter Lastman
Like many stories in the Bible, the book of Jonah has been maimed by being turned into a children’s tale. He was swallowed by a fish and lived inside the belly of the whale for three whole days. This version is irrelevant, but its details are tantalizing to distractible Sunday school children.
But looking more deeply at this 2,500-year-old story, the message is as significant now as it was back then. A universal parable on the dangers of avoiding your life and the lengths we’ll go to run from destiny.
Jonah was a prophet, and he received clear instructions to go to the city of Nineveh and deliver a message. Doing so involved trekking east, across desert wilds to what is now modern-day northern Iraq. Instead he went west, setting sail for the farthest reaches of the known world in southern Iberia.
“But Jonah ran away from the Lord and headed for Tarshish. He went down to Joppa, where he found a ship bound for that port. After paying the fare, he went aboard and sailed for Tarshish to flee from the Lord.”
Jonah was a prophet, but he could have just as easily been a plumber. Or a stock broker, or a stay at home mom, or a patient in the hospital. He was like all of us, he had a present reality and that reality required certain things of him. But he chose to run away from it all. He headed towards the beautiful beaches of coastal Spain on a ship bound for Tarshish.
And who is not allured by the siren song of metaphorical Spanish beaches? The sunshine, the festive atmosphere, the distance from where we belong? We also sail west when we should be heading east. And unlike Jonah, who likely had to wait weeks and months for a ship heading to that port, there is a ship leaving for Tarshish every hour in our world. Social media, hours of mindless television, drugs, alcohol, sex, workaholism, oversleeping, food, a myriad of tinier distractions. Get on board, we’re westward bound!
Safely on board his Tarshish bound vessel, Jonah believed he’d escaped life and responsibility. But his avoidance put everyone around him in danger. For when the boat left port a storm came up on the waters and nearly sunk the ship. The crew eventually determined he was the cause of the storm.
Then the sailors said to each other, “Come, let us cast lots to find out who is responsible for this calamity.” They cast lots and the lot fell on Jonah. So, they asked him, “Tell us, who is responsible for making all this trouble for us? What kind of work do you do? Where do you come from? What is your country? From what people are you?”
Avoiding our life puts others at risk, as well as ourselves. It can even end in death. And Jonah was so determined to run, that even death seemed preferable to life. He convinced the sailors to throw him into the sea, where he was swallowed by a great fish. In the belly of death itself Jonah finally confronted reality, and offered these profound words:
“I sank beneath the waves,
and the waters closed over me.
Seaweed wrapped itself around my head.
I sank down to the very roots of the mountains.
I was imprisoned in the earth,
whose gates lock shut forever.”
He faced what was real, no longer ignoring or avoiding. Shortly afterwards Jonah expresses gratitude in the midst of it all. The fish spits him up on dry ground, a second chance at life is given.
Photo by Pixabay
Fate demanded Jonah go to Nineveh, a place where he had a calling to fulfill. Jonah had a role that only he could do.
We also have our Ninevehs. They represent places we don’t necessarily want to go. Nineveh represents life as it is and not as you wish it would be. It is your present reality today, unfiltered and unnumbed.
What is your Nineveh? It could be something as small as the unfolded laundry in the dryer. It could be a difficult conversation or a situation that requires you to forgive. It could be a change in direction: a full 180 degree turn from the West to the East.
And it could be something even bigger than that. Maybe you’re not a plumber or a stockbroker, maybe you are a prophet, and a whole town of people is waiting for you to come out of the whale’s belly and deliver the message you’ve been entrusted to carry.
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References
[1] The War of Art: Over: Break Through the Blocks and Win Your Inner Creative Battles, Steven Pressfield
[2} Say Yes: Discover the Surprising Life Beyond the Death of a Dream, Scott Erickson